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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150508">staying nobodies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/solcadit/pseuds/solcadit'>solcadit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you make me complete (solangelo) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, apollo owns a diner, i think its a little sad, its barely a romance ig, runaway nico and rich boy will?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:14:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/solcadit/pseuds/solcadit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Solace stands frozen, his head turning to watch as Nico runs straight down to the boat on the far right of the port, ducking between workers and carts like a whirlwind. When Nico disappears into the crowd of people and carts so soon, Will almost thinks the kiss didn’t happen. That it was actually just a part of his subconscious imagination.</p><p>The words Will was going to say remain unspoken on the edge of his tongue. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nico di Angelo/Will Solace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you make me complete (solangelo) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>staying nobodies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello hello!</p><p>i vaguely remember taking this down last year because I wanted to do something else with it, but life happened and i wasnt able to do anything anymore so im just reuploading this again!</p><p>I hope you like this &lt;3</p><p>(unbeta-ed, unfortunately)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Will Solace almost gets run over by an old pick up truck while he is out taking a walk to clear his head at two in the morning after jumping out of his window (because nothing good ever happens after two in the morning, according to his beloved </span>
  <em>
    <span>How I Met Your Mother </span>
  </em>
  <span>Season 1 Episode 18, so why not jump out of his window and take a walk out of their family estate and maybe get murdered while he’s at it, right?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will almost gets run over by an old pick up truck which was being driven by a scrawny teenager who looked to be younger than Will. A thirteen year old, maybe?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But unlike Will, this kid’s shoulders were hunched and had black clothes and black hair looking like he was hacked at by a pair of scissors. This teenager also happened to look like he was crying and panicking and had blood stains all over his hands and arms all at the same time as if he had just brutally murdered someone before jumping in a pickup truck and driving away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Will is yet to realize that a thirteen year old driving a truck in the middle of the night is most likely illegal, but even if he does realize, he doesn’t care.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will, after getting his pajama pants and elbows ripped and scratched by the gravel on the uneven road, had been then forced into the front seat of this pickup truck. This kid jumped out of the driver’s seat, ran to Will, and dragged him up from the ground, all while shaking mumbling under his breath nonstop: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Quick, quick! We don’t have time! They’re bound to catch me soon! Hurry!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Will had just followed suit because why the fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>right? If nothing good ever happens after two in the morning and he had failed to get himself killed, then this kid must be the trouble he’s been looking for all along-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>God </span>
  </em>
  <span>, is Will sitting in a murderer’s front seat?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will furtively peeks at the kid, whose knuckles are turning white due to his tight grip on the steering wheel as he speeds at what feels like 100 kilometers per hour - not that it’s a problem since there are barely any cars on the street at this hour - and turns sharply, the truck feeling like it’s going to flip over if he turns sharper and goes any faster. In the midst of this chaos where he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hold on tight to the roof handles for the first time in his life, Will can’t help but wonder what the teenager is running from since he’s constantly looking at the truck’s side mirror practically every five seconds. Will notices a bead of sweat trickle down the side of the dude’s neck amidst heavy breathing. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nah. This dude looks too frail and too thin and too young to be a vicious murderer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teenager jumps and snaps his head to look in Will’s direction, taking another sharp left, “O-oh, hi, sorry I almost ran you over,” His voice is trembling and is very very quiet, Will almost didn’t catch it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for not turning me into a pancake, I guess. But death might have felt nice, you know.” Will grumbles. The teenager turns back to the steering wheel, quiet once more, so Will asks, “Where the fuck are you driving me to, anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say anything, and when Will is just about to open his mouth, he says shortly, “The port, I guess."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Running away from murder, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another sharp turn. “W-what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Huh, so that got him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Will raises his eyebrows, “Pull over, kid. Do you even know how to drive? You’re shaking like a leaf and driving at 100, almost 110 kilometers per hour, don’t get us in a car crash in the middle of nowhere. You already got some dude’s blood all over your hands, I don’t want mine to be there, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that statement, the kid abruptly brakes and stops the truck at the corner. Unbuckling the already loose and honestly useless seatbelt, Will pushes open the car door and jumps out of the truck, the car door swinging dangerously behind him as he takes a good look at their surroundings. Will doesn’t even know where they are anymore; it doesn’t look the slightest bit familiar to him and his city boy brain. It’s just an open block of land with lots of tall wild grass and empty farmland stretching until god-knows-where. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks back over his shoulder, calling out, “Yo, kid! Where the fuck are we?” He’s born and raised in the heart of the city, he doesn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>go </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the middle of nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When an answer doesn’t come even when he waits, Will walks backward, back almost hitting the ajar car door, and sticks his head into the pickup truck. The kid is sitting very still in the driver’s seat, knuckles frozen on the wheel. Will’s eyebrows furrow, “Yo, what’s up with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds later, the kid’s shoulders start shaking uncontrollably and he drops his head onto the wheel. Will is just left standing awkwardly outside the truck and kicking at the gravel on the road until the dude stops crying his heart out and really sounding very heartbroken that Will is left to continuously wonder what the dude is crying about until he actually stops crying - which isn’t for what feels like fifteen more minutes. The kid rubs at his eyes with his blood-stained hands, sniffling and looking like a normal vulnerable child and not some murderer possibly on the loose. In the dimness of the night, Will momentarily forgets that this guy practically kidnapped him and now they’re in the middle of nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teenager suddenly starts up the car again, contrary to Will’s expectations that they were finally going to talk about where the fuck they are, and says hoarsely, “Get in… guy, we have to go. We’re still an hour away from the port, or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will reaches his hand out, still standing outside the truck, “My name is Will Solace. I’m not</span>
  <em>
    <span> just </span>
  </em>
  <span>a guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy has the audacity to just stare at his hand, blink, and say with his oh-so-soft and whispery voice, “Come on then, Will Solace. Get in the truck before the cops find us.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The dude is still sniffling every few seconds, but (thankfully) he has stopped trembling. The truck’s radio is broken, the A/C doesn’t work, and Will thinks they’ve been driving at 50 for hours already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Will speaks up. “Do you even know where the port is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m following the coastline. Should be around there, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will raises his eyebrows. The logic sounds okay enough, but then what if the port isn’t by that coastline? What if the port is actually all the way on the other side of the country?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have a navigator or something? Some GPS?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid suddenly looks at Will, confused. “Am I supposed to use that? What is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will furrows his already raised eyebrows, “Well, no. You don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to use it, per se. But it’d help us find the port faster instead of just us randomly driving around all night- Alright, hold on, I think I have some data left-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Data?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-so I can turn on a navigation app on my phone. I should have it,” Will says while patting down his pockets, feeling weird when he doesn’t feel any object inside his pajama pockets. He was sure he brought his wallet and his phone when he stepped out of his window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will looks at the kid beside him, who is constantly shifting his gaze from the empty street in front to the fumbling-with-his-pockets Will. “Fuck, I think I didn’t bring my phone. And my wallet, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid just silently turns his gaze back to the empty road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will sighs and looks over at the dude, properly taking a look at him for the first time that night. In the dark with the occasional flash of light from the streetlights outside, Will can see how the guy is wearing an oversized raggy black shirt and a pair of dirty basketball shorts, both looking as equally tattered and hacked-at-with-a-pair-of-scissors as the guy’s hair. His face is pale and gaunt and has deep bags underneath his eyes; he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and there are a few flecks of blood on his cheeks, looking like he hastily tried to wipe it off but stained. His blood stained hands are thin and bony - and still trembling just a tiny bit - and Will thinks that the guy should at least wash the blood off of his hands first. Will doesn’t want to be labeled as an accomplice to a murder, even though it’s highly unlikely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will slowly continues to add, “Well, maybe we can look for a place so you can wash up first? The blood stains are a bit...” He falters for a second, “Anyway, there’s bound to be a store around here somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid (</span>
  <em>
    <span> Fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>, Will should really get his name soon) glances at him and shrugs passively again. Will forces the corners of his lips upwards into a small smile, feeling strange. They've been driving for over an hour and it’s still empty all around, shouldn’t they have passed a store or two already? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe they already have and Will just didn’t notice because he was too focused on the idea of how this guy might actually murder him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nah, probably not. The dude looks too weak and shaky to even land a proper punch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few more long minutes (or has it been hours? He can’t really tell anymore) of driving, Will notices a large empty space on their right save from a few people wearing hats and uniforms and walking around with tiny flashlights. Street lights blink weakly over what looks like a wooden box with a door and a single glass window - this must be some sort of port center. There is a light bulb turned on inside, and Will can see the shadow of a guard leaning back on a chair, a dead lantern on a table. Past the wooden block of a center, he can see the outlines of a few cargo ships docked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will waves his hand, trying to catch the dude’s attention. “Hey, I think we’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” The guy asks confusedly as he swerves wildly to the left and slams his foot down on the brakes, looking at Will. The car stops in the middle of the empty street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re at the port. Pull over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy obliges and restarts the truck only to roughly swerve to their right, out of the middle of the road. Will immediately pushes open the door and hops out, slippers slapping against the uneven pavement. He takes what’s more in their surroundings aside from the port. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bright white and blue LED lights in the outline of a flower Will can’t place the name of blinks around a kilometer or so away. A convenience store maybe? Some unknown fast food joint? He makes a mental point to bring the kid there later on to maybe wash up and leech off some food if they happen to look pitiful enough. It’s pitch black, probably around 4 in the morning at the moment, and if this dude is going to take a boat out later, they have more than just a few hours left to kill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turns his head to see the guy standing a few feet away from him, and it’s his first time to notice that the guy is just a head shorter than Will is despite probably being years younger, and the guy is as thin as a stick. Will waits as the guy looks at the port, the surrounding sea, and, thanks to the bright light coming from the full moon above them, notices the first crack of a smile on the dude’s gaunt face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy focuses his gaze on Will after a while, and Will is surprised to see how dark and soulless his eyes actually look. His eyes don’t look thirteen. Clearing his throat, Will jerks his head in the direction of the white and blue lights. “Come on, let’s get you washed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They start walking, with the guy trailing two steps behind Will. Will glances and walks just a bit slower to match the dude’s pace so they’re walking side by side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will starts, “Hey, since we already spent a few hours together, is it fine if you tell me your name?” The guy suddenly jumps like he’s just been electrocuted, and Will tilts his head in confusion. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other lowers his head, muttering, “My name…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will is sure the guy says something, but he fails to catch it because the dude’s voice is already quiet enough to start with but he’s muttering. Nick? Was that it? Will leans in just a bit closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry? Didn’t catch that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name.” The guy suddenly says louder, “Nico.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wow,” Will tries to crack a joke to break the awkward atmosphere. It’s too quiet, the sound of his laugh breaks the silence of the night as well. “Like the victory god, Nike. You must get a lot of prizes in school, then? Your name must be a great one to have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His attempt at a punny joke is met with dead silence, then a quiet, “I dropped out of school after fourth grade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue their walk to the lights in silence, their feet crunching on dead leaves and kicking on rocks scattered on the pavement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later on, a blue glow lights up the ground they’re walking on and Will stops walking once they’re just outside what looks like a run-down diner that’s open 24/7. The word ‘HYACINTH’ in some curly font is written over on the board hanging over the door, and upon peeking inside through the dusty window, the diner is completely empty save from those standing behind the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico (Thank god Will knows his name now) suddenly speaks up, hands patting at his pockets. “I don’t have any cash on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will pauses before he shrugs, looking over at Nico. They’re there to just use the bathroom, anyway. Surely the people running this diner won’t be like some mall and ask people to pay for bathroom use, no?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine. I don’t have anything on me, either. We can just try and ask if we can use their bathroom. Or at least a kitchen sink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico blinks - unnaturally slowly, Will notices - and doesn’t say anything. Will decides to push open the door to the blue and white diner, the hinges on the doors squeaking as bells ring above the door, announcing their entrance to the seemingly dead diner. Will looks up and notices a dreamcatcher swinging above the door as well, and the dreamcatcher looks just like the one he has above his bedroom door at home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lone man at the counter raises his head, eyes half-closed and sandy blonde hair messy, and immediately straightens at the sight of two teenagers at the door, instead of the usual worker from the port. It’s probably been a while since someone different entered the diner, especially at this hour, much less two teenagers who look like the most unlikely pair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will knows they look strange, especially together - Will with his sun-tanned skin and long blond curls wearing torn matching pajamas and Nico, pale and with shaggy raven hair, wearing bloodstained and ragged oversized clothes. He doesn’t know what they look like they’d been doing, but the man behind the counter doesn’t say anything. Instead, the man stands silently waiting for them to go further inside the empty diner; he looks like he’s in a daydream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will scans their surroundings. The walls are of dirty white tiles, half of them cracked, and the floor is painted blue, although, with the number of dirty shoe prints all over it, it looks more of a deep navy color. But then the diner as a whole doesn’t look as dirty as Will originally thought; it’s just a bit dusty. Obviously cleaning isn’t really their priority out here in the middle of their nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” Will finally speaks up, marching up to the counter and leaning his left hand on the spinning bright blue plastic bar chair. The surface of the chair is sticky, and Will almost shudders. “Can we use your bathroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man stares unblinkingly at him for a second too long before he snaps himself out of his daze and clears his throat. Will eyes the man’s crumpled blue apron, where a cheap-looking dirty white name tag with the name is pinned on the right side of his chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Apollo </span>
  </em>
  <span>, it reads. Will briefly thinks it’s sad that a man named after the Greek god of the sun is working at a run-down diner named after a flower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, sure. Yeah. It’s just through there.” The man, Apollo, stumbles over himself as he hurries out from behind the counter and points them towards the corner where there are two doors. “Toilet’s the door on the left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will flashes him the charming smile he usually reserves for his father’s important friends. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Will turns to Nico, who looks frozen where he’s standing. And under the flickering white light of the diner, Will notices the detail of the blood stains all over Nico’s clothes and body. Nico actually looks like a murderer, but if Apollo thinks so, he doesn’t say anything, only smiling as brightly as his diner’s LED lights and pointing them in the direction of the toilet. Is it a normal occurrence around here for bloody trembling kids to stumble in at the middle of the night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nudges Nico’s shoulder with his elbow. “This man says the toilet is over there. I’ll wait for you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico doesn’t move for a few seconds until he stumbles forward in the direction of the toilet as if he’s been shoved. As Will sits down on the sticky bar chair, Apollo moves back to his place behind the counter and swiftly passes Will a menu shabbily taped together and even more poorly laminated with dusty plastic</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna order anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will doesn’t even have to look at the menu to know that he can’t pay for anything, with no wallet nor phone in pocket. He hands back the menu and politely smiles, just as he hears a door (he presumes it’s the toilet door and Nico is safely inside) slam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about your friend?” Apollo offers again, hand on the menu but still not taking it back. “He might be hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hasn’t got any money, either. Thank you for offering, but no thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Alright.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man looks only slightly disappointed as he returns the menu to where it was placed underneath the counter. Will notices the way Apollo glances at him as if wondering what he should do. Will clears his throat, “Hey, uhm, do you happen to know the schedule of the boats that go out of the nearby port?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Apollo immediately turns back to him. “Oh, no, sorry I don’t really know the exact schedule, but I know boats start leaving as early as seven then goes on every thirty minutes until nine in the evening. Cargo shipment all over and out of the country.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about boats for passengers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Passenger ferries?” Apollo sounds confused, incredulous, as if he’s never heard anything like it his whole life. “Leaving from that port? There are no passenger boats at that port, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The diner falls into silence once more when Will doesn’t ask anything else. Apollo decides to take random plastic cups from under the counter and wipes them down forcefully with what looks like a torn-off piece of a yellow flannel shirt even though the cups don’t look dirty. Will looks down at his lap and mindlessly fumbles with the frayed seams his pajama shirt suddenly has.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The digital clock on the diner wall near where the toilets obnoxiously blinks red numbers. It’s 3:26 AM.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Apollo’s information is correct, there are approximately three and a half hours before the first boat leaves carrying its cargo shipment. Then there should be boats leaving the port every half hour or so, Will isn’t sure. He’s only been the one sending out shipments consisting of gifts or money. He’s never really understood how these systems of shipments or cargo work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not even sure why Nico wanted to go to the port, of all places. He’s not even sure of the reason for so many things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reason why Nico wants to go to a port where only boats carrying cargo and supplies or whatever leave from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reason why Nico was driving an old pick up truck despite looking far from having a driver’s license and telling Will to hurry up because Nico might get caught soon at that moment Will almost got run over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reason why Nico’s clothes and hands are bloodstained and why Nico was shaking and trembling so much-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then a suspicion hits him, and Will’s original thought comes back to mind - the one he thought was unlikely because of Nico’s frame - Is Nico a murderer? An accomplice to murderer? A kidnapper? Someone who ships humans overseas for human trafficking on cargo ships? Will’s eyes widen, but just slightly enough for Apollo not to notice: Is Will getting kidnapped to be raped by some giant Italian mafia boss who uses street kids as bait? The name Nico </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound like it might be Italian. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s that exact moment when Nico comes back, his whole form from his hair to his legs dripping with water. He looks like he took a shower in the diner toilet. His clothes are still ragged and torn, but his face and hands don’t have any trace of blood stains visible if not closely examined, and he looks much more awake. Even under the ugly lighting of the diner, Nico's skin looks unnaturally pale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s dripping form even catches Apollo’s attention, who has stopped trying to wipe down all the plasticware in the diner. Will only watches in silence as Apollo reaches under the counter again and shoves a handful of paper towels in Nico’s direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here. Dry yourself with these.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico accepts with a “</span>
  <em>
    <span> Thank you </span>
  </em>
  <span>” that is so softly whispered that leaves Will wondering if even Apollo, who is still smiling kindly, heard it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nico insisted on sitting at the very corner out of sight, so Will left his seat by the bar as Apollo retreated to the staff room since they weren’t going to order anything while Nico led him to the table at the very corner of the diner. Will’s brain is running what seems like a thousand thoughts a second, so he barely notices the dustiness of the blue plastic seats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment they are both seated across from each other, Will blurts out, “Mind introducing yourself again? With more details this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico blanks. For some reason, ever since he came back from the toilet, he has been clutching at his right bicep. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will leans forward over the strangely sticky table, purposely ignoring the disgusting feeling. Apollo and whoever he’s working with should really clean up. Their chairs and tables are either dusty or sticky. The health department would lose their heads if they ever came to this diner for a health inspection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you? How did you come to be driving some truck at two in the morning? Why are we here? Are you kidnapping me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico speaks slowly, but his voice doesn't tremble anymore. “I happened to just come across you. I’m sorry I picked you up. I… I was worried that the police were after me, you just came out of nowhere and I didn’t know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will’s eyebrows disappear into his fringe. “Why would the police be after you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obviously, some death or stabbing happened, seeing how Nico’s clothes are scratched and arms were bloody before he scrubbed them clean. Until now, there are still some blood stains left, and Will doesn’t know what to think. He didn’t even know that blood could stain that deeply into skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I watched a thug stab my sister to death, so I hit his back with a plank of wood,” Nico inhales sharply; Will notices how his eyes are filling with tears again, “I didn’t know the wood had nails stuck in it, I just wanted to make him pass out as quietly as possible. But then he yelled out and people in the neighborhood woke up, so I snuck into someone’s parked pick up truck that still had the key in and bolted before they could call the police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not working for some mafia or something?” Will blurts out before he can stop himself. “How about your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico looks at him strangely, his tears already falling. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, “Our mom died last winter. Never met my dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico suddenly seems to realize he’s crying, and he immediately reaches with his right hand to wipe the tears away, ducking down as if he doesn’t want Will to see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will drops his gaze, suddenly feeling sorry that he brought up the whole thing and that he suspected this kid for </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidnapping </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he just wanted to get away from a murder scene. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>sister's </span>
  </em>
  <span>, of all people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will might not understand how it feels to watch your sibling die right in front of your eyes or to have never met his father, but he does understand what it feels to lose a sibling. His brothers, Lee and Michael, both went to the army, never came back and only had their possessions shipped to their house. Lee was said to have fallen to stray gunfire before being trampled underfoot by opposing troops, and Michael had been hit by a bomb. Will cried for days when he first heard about it. From becoming the youngest of three brothers, he had become the only child and the heir to his father’s giant network overnight. Will had been only ten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Assuming Nico is around 13, he must have been around that age when his mother died in the winter. Will suddenly </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>feels bad towards Nico. This kid just had to watch his sister die right in front of his eyes, attack the killer as revenge for her, then had to drive away in fear that he might get arrested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will glances back at him and notices how Nico still clutches at his right arm, “Hey, are you okay? Is your arm hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico suddenly looks up, eyes panicky as if he’s cornered and his voice sounds more high pitched than normal when he frantically shakes his head and says, “No! I’m fine, what do you mean hurt? I’m great! I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Will should have already expected Nico to suddenly burst into tears right in front of him, dropping his head onto the sticky tabletop, shoulders shaking with his sobs. Will wrinkles his nose; that probably doesn’t feel great. His own arms are already feeling weird and slightly disgusting from how long he’s been leaning on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hears footsteps coming behind him just in time to Apollo slipping in the seats to the table beside theirs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows are raised questioningly at Will, “Is he okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will only shrugs silently in reply. He doesn’t want to say anything if Nico himself doesn’t want to talk about himself to Apollo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits silently, resting his elbow on the table with his chin in his palm as he stares out of the dirty window into, well,the darkness. Nico cries surprisingly quietly to the extent that Will would briefly forget he’s crying until he hears a little sniffle. He wonders what else Nico has been through at his young age before deciding against it the moment he steals a glance at the younger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Nico is crying, Apollo suddenly stands up and goes back to the counter. Will only realizes that he went there to get them both mugs of a steaming dark liquid when Apollo comes back and sets the mugs down on their table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have some hot chocolate,” Apollo places one mug in front of Will and the other in front of Nico. He jerks his head towards Nico, “Kid looks like he needs it, and it’s common courtesy to offer the whole table drinks when you give one person one. Free of charge, don’t worry,” Apollo waves Will off when he’s about to tell Apollo they really don’t have any money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will sinks back into his seat, leaning his back by the window and genuinely returning Apollo’s small smile. “Thank you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No worries,” Apollo waves it off again with another jerk of his head in Nico’s direction, “Lots of people come through here but never usually kids like him who look like they went through hell and back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Will clears his throat, properly sitting back up again and reaching for the mug of chocolate. It’s humid outside in the middle of summer, but when Will takes a sip of the chocolate, it tastes rich and unlike one you’d expect to find in such a rundown diner. It tastes like the cocoa he would have at home, sitting by the fire during winter after a snowball fight with his brothers. He cannot help but exclaim, “Oh wow, this is really good chocolate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo notices his surprise and grins, “Yeah, I heard. It’s a secret recipe my sister taught me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you always give hot chocolate to random kids at four in the morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo hums a slow sad tune that Will might have heard from one of his grandmother’s old records, which is weird because Apollo only looks to be in his mid-twenties. Early thirties is pushing it, “No, but my sister always liked taking in random kids from the street. She was a human and animal rights advocate. Loved all living critters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nods in acknowledgment before setting down the mug again and scooting closer to the edge of his seat, deciding to try and make small talk while he’s there, “So, uh, what kind of people come through here? Got any good business?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t the best, but it’s not the worst, either. Most of the people who go through here are workers from the port or people on road trips. Some stragglers, sometimes. Never at this hour, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look surprised to see us, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo shrugs, “You open a diner in this spot in the middle of god-knows-where, you see a lot of people. After a while, nothing really surprises you, anymore.” His gaze is far away for a while before focusing back on Will, eyes flitting back and forth between Will and Nico, who is now starting to sit back up in his seat, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “What brings you two here at this hour, though? You don’t look like two people who are all buddy buddy, else you’d be all bloody and scratched up like that kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will decides to drink from his mug again in lieu of answering Apollo’s question. He doesn’t really know how to answer it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Nico speaks up. His voice is rough and cracked. His eyes are red and puffy, and his arm looks heavy when he points at Will. “Picked him up on the street.” Then his lips curve up at the edges into some weird grimace. Maybe it's a smile. “Maybe we’re soulmates, you never know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo suddenly laughs out loud, a piercing, disbelieving bark of a laugh that Will hadn’t been expecting from him, “Soulmates! Ha! Now that’s funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t know much about soulmates, aside from what he’s seen in the media, nor does he believe in them. Supposedly, everyone in the world has their own soulmate, and they will only know they’ve met their soulmate once they meet them because their soulmate’s name takes the form of a tattoo somewhere on their body. Apparently, they’re perfect matches and are destined to spend their whole lives together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people meet their soulmates at fifteen, sometimes even younger. His brother Lee had met his soulmate at twelve, while Michael had met his right on his birthday. Both of their soulmates’ had grieved and sobbed when they died, now that they’d be spending the rest of their lives incomplete. Will is seventeen and he hasn’t met his own soulmate yet, nor has he ever been romantically attracted to any girl. He’s not sure if he even has one. Media usually always portrays only the good things in everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo pretends to wipe his eyes of tears from laughing too much at the idea of soulmates as he looks at the pair. “You know, kids, I used to have a soulmate. Beautiful, he was. Bronze skin, curly brown hair, dark eyes. Eyes just like yours, kid.” He motions to Nico, who only blinks at him. Apollo then turns to Will, “And a charming smile just like yours,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will immediately looks away, feeling awkward. Apollo grins, “Lots of people wanted him as their soulmate, you know, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine </span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was blessed by the gods to be fated to such a beautiful man.” The man bursts into another round of laughter, although this time, they sound more pained. “Or so I thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will glances around , trying to catch Nico’s eye. The more Apollo talks about his soulmate in this tragic way makes him feel increasingly strange, as if there’s something more to the story than what Apollo is saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo continues, his voice now tinted with a sad, bitter tone, “But you know what happened? My lover, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulmate </span>
  </em>
  <span>, was murdered by someone who was jealous of us. Honestly baffling, really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>his soulmate. He probably had his own soulmate but he chose to focus all his time on me and mine.” Something in Apollo’s gaze transforms, and he speaks through gritted teeth, “The murderer of my poor lover was jailed soon after. Lucky for their soulmate, they might have never met him, never grieved for him. Meanwhile, I’m left all alone to mourn my loss for the rest of my life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner, Will notices Nico’s eyebrows are raised as his gaze is fixed on Apollo. The diner called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hyacinth </span>
  </em>
  <span>run by a man named after a Greek god who turned his lover into a flower after his death. Will tilts his head, a memory of learning about a certain Greek mythological story tugging at his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apollo,” Will starts carefully, “Why does your story about your ex-lover seem strangely - how do I put this - </span>
  <em>
    <span>similar </span>
  </em>
  <span>, to the myth of Hyacinthus and Apollo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo’s face immediately brightens, “You noticed? Oh, you smart boy! My soulmate was nicknamed Hyacinthus, you know, as a running joke among friends. Soulmate named Apollo? Give him a nickname after a mythological character. And quite fascinating how the fates really lined up for us, really.” Then he laughs that harsh, biting laugh again, his expression souring just as quickly as it brightened, “Would have been great if our story didn’t follow the myth as closely as it had, though. We had our whole lives ahead of us, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this diner,” Nico speaks up, the mug of chocolate in front of him completely ignored, “Is named after your soulmate’s nickname?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Apollo nods, “It’s the only thing I have left in memory of him aside from hyacinth flowers, you know. Dropped out of college, took out all my savings, and started this diner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the middle of nowhere,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess, so yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t soulmates have tattoos?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Apollo’s face falls again, “Yes, I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did,” Nico echoes, and he seems to be thinking about something. His hand reaches to lightly touch his arm again before dropping his hand. Will briefly wonders if Nico has met </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> soulmate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will looks back and forth from Apollo and Nico, before turning back to Apollo, “You got it removed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was seventeen when I first met him, you know. High school senior and all. Met him during a college campus tour, we were going to study literature, take all the same classes. And we did, for a while, until he died. Couldn’t take the pain of seeing my tattoo every time I took off my shirt, so I got it removed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo peers at them for a few long moments, as if he knows something they don’t - which is impossible. All three of them are all strangers towards each other. Will quickly averts his gaze for a second when he feels Apollo's eyes land on him for what feels like a second too long. What kind of stain is that on the table?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man suddenly faces Nico, who has just started to drink his chocolate. Nico puts down his mug, leaving him with a little chocolate moustache that almost makes Will laugh. Nico finally looks like his age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old are you, kid?” Apollo questions, a knowing smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s eyebrows furrow, “Sixteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will’s head immediately snaps to stare at Nico in disbelief. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sixteen </span>
  </em>
  <span>? He accidentally blurts out, “What? You look thirteen!” The exclamation makes Apollo laugh before he turns to Will, asking the same question. Will frowns, “I’m seventeen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apollo stares at them for a little longer, not saying anything else. Silence falls over the whole diner until suddenly, the man jumps up from his seat, “Well, I’ll leave you two </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulmates </span>
  </em>
  <span>alone. It was nice talking to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exaggerates the word, making Will knit his eyebrows together in confusion. Nico’s stare is fixated on his chocolate when Will glances at him. There’s a sad smile on Apollo’s face as he looks at the pair of them before walking back towards his counter. It’s as if Apollo really knows something about them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soulmates? Will and Nico? What are the chances, honestly? Will's life isn’t some piece of fiction where he meets his soulmate in the middle of the night and they end up in the middle of nowhere together, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>. That’s impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Nico looks up from his mug, Will comments, “That was weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico only shrugs silently, taking his mug with two hands and sipping from it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His story about his soulmate made me think about my brothers’ soulmates, though.” Will says, trying to switch the topic of conversation from Apollo’s weird actions to something they can talk about easier: themselves. “How Apollo is feeling is probably how my brothers’ soulmates felt when my brothers died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico looks up from his mug, his chocolate mustache still there. Will stops the urge to get up and pass a tissue to wipe his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your brothers died?” Nico sounds mildly surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. The war.” Will tries for a smile. It’s been seven years since. Will should at least be not crying anymore when talking about them, “Left and never came back home. We couldn’t even have a proper burial for them. Apparently, their bodies were </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrecked, </span>
  </em>
  <span>couldn't get them back home in one piece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for your sister and mother, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s head dips low again, and Will can see the rise and drop of his shoulders as he takes a deep breath. “Our mom left one morning and never came back, too. I still don’t know what happened to her. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>cold and so windy. It was the middle of a snowstorm. I might have lost Bianca that day, too. She wanted to look for our mom but I begged her to stay with me because I didn’t want to be separated any more than we had to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had a few more months with her. That’s something, right? At least you weren’t completely alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will watches Nico’s hands curl into fists on the table. His voice comes out in a whisper, and increasingly becomes louder and louder as he continues speaking. “I lost my own mother on my birthday. Then Bianca died at midnight today, on her own fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>birthday </span>
  </em>
  <span>. We were only out at midnight because I saved up enough change over the year to be able to buy her a piece of her favorite bread from the bakery near where we slept, but before we got there, some thug cornered us in an alley and I dropped all my change into the gutter when I tried to hit the thug who killed her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gears in Will’s head seem to turn on overdrive as it registers all this new information about Nico. His mouth drops to form an ‘o’ when they all click together, and all his supposed problems about losing his brothers and his dad never really being there for him growing up suddenly feel like tiny specks of dust. Even when his brothers died and his father was never there, at least his mother was there and they had a big home and they could go to all sorts of places and buy all sorts of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico lost his mother, lost his sister, didn’t know his father, had barely enough money to buy food to eat, and had likely been homeless, too. What Will had gone through was barely a fraction of what Nico had experienced. He had concrete plans for the future - even if it wasn’t one he wanted for himself - while Nico probably had to worry every single day about whether he could even live through the next few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Will’s head drops onto the table with a thud, “I feel like some spoiled, over-privileged asshole now. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will expects Nico to stay quiet, maybe storm out of the diner and drive away and leave him there alone. To his extreme surprise, Nico lets out a laugh. A small quiet laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. Will raises his head to see Nico’s lips curled upwards in a tightlipped smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine,” Nico shakes his head when he catches Will’s eyes. “It’s not your fault you’re probably some middle class-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nico,” Will reaches out and grabs his arms. Nico immediately flinches, tugs his arms away and hides them under the table. “Fuck, I’m sorry- oh god. I was just thinking about how sad it was for me that my dad was never around for me, and I hated my life because I was being forced to take over the company, but then- oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god </span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>. Nico, my dad is the owner of SOL Media.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s eyebrows immediately disappear into his eyebrows. For some reason, his hand jumps to his right bicep again. What is it with that kid's arm?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re rich.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Will groans and buries his head in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico doesn’t say anything for a long time, and even when Will raises his head minutes later, he only finds Nico intently staring at him with those dark eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They leave Apollo’s diner at sunrise, and choose to sit on the back of the pickup truck. Apollo gives them sad smiles, a wave and an extra “</span>
  <em>
    <span> good luck </span>
  </em>
  <span>!” for a reason unknown to Will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they’re both settled and sitting on surprisingly comfortable spare tires, Will questions, “Where do you plan to go from here, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico, who has been staring off into the horizon for the past few minutes, snaps back to look at Will and hums. Ever since Will told him about his background and his family, Nico has become much more open and casual. More natural. Maybe he realized how in a few hours, they will more likely never see each other again and has since then decided that he can tell Will anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Nico shrugs, dark eyes looking into Will’s blue ones, “Wherever the first boat I get on goes, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know Apollo said that only cargo boats leave from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, won’t you have a hard time smuggling yourself in there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easier to hide between boxes than between passengers with tickets, no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will frowns, “You know that’s illegal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico shrugs again and leans back against the cold metal of the truck, “Whatever happens, happens. Maybe I’ll get lucky and get on a boat to Italy, I’ll get to go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re Italian?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. My parents went to the States after my mom got pregnant with Bianca.” Nico looks over at him, “I thought I already told you this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will tilts his head, “What’s your full name? You haven’t told me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at Will. His expression is of mock suspicion, although Will can tell there’s a glitter of humor, “How do I know you’re not working for the police and won’t report me as an orphan stowaway soon as I get on that boat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughs, reaching over and shoving Nico, who laughs back despite almost falling off the tire he's sitting on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks over at the other boy, suddenly noticing how the colors from the sunrise make Nico’s unnaturally pale skin glow warm. The sun is reflecting in his dark eyes. Has there always been that tiny scar on the bridge of Nico’s nose? Will briefly wonders when will he ever get such a calm moment as this again. When Nico leaves and Will goes home, for sure, his mother will have bodyguards tailing him everywhere to make sure he doesn’t disappear again in the middle of the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What if Nico just doesn't go?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or what if-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are out of his Will’s mouth before they even cross his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about I come with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico freezes and sits up a little straighter, “Would you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Will bites his lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Would he actually go with Nico, given a choice?  </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I don’t know. Sorry I said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A look of disappointment flashes on Nico’s face, although it disappears just as quickly that Will thinks he might have just imagined it. Why had he said that? Nico picked him up from the street, they drove to the middle of nowhere, talked about anything and everything under the sun for the past hour or two, and will part again within the next two hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will is going to go back to his normal life at his private high school and family home, and Nico will… Nico will go wherever the boat he gets on takes him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly speaking, they’re barely friends. Nico isn’t the same type of friend as Cecil is to Will, who have seen every side of each other there is to see since they’ve been toddlers. But at the same time, Nico knows Will better than Cecil would ever know Will. Will would never have the guts to admit to Cecil that he hates his life and doesn’t want to take over SOL Media, that he wants to become a doctor and save people, but Nico knows all that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thought about </span>
  <em>
    <span>what if Nico is Will’s soulmate? </span>
  </em>
  <span>crosses his mind for a brief second. Will ignores the possibility; it’s still unlikely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if you come with me, though? What if you stay with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for some reason, Will keeps wanting to have Nico by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Nico stares at him in disbelief. “In your rich mansion?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, you could have the life you lost. We have a whole library, you can read all of the books you want. We could go to college together-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Will is blurting out whatever comes into his head, Nico is only staring at him in silence, as if studying his expression to see how serious about it. Will doesn’t know what the other sees, but Nico’s expression softens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks his heart beats faster. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What if Nico will say yes-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. And I don't think your rich parents would be welcoming of someone like me in your home.” Nico shakes his head, turning back to look at the quickly rising sun. “It’s better to live outside this city, or this country now. We never know if people are looking for me or something. I technically attacked that thug, you know. Could land me in juvie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will blurts out, “I could get you a lawyer! I could help you restart your whole life, Nico.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t do that, you barely know me.” Nico shakes his head again, although Will thinks there’s a hint of a pink blush on Nico’s cheeks. It might just be his imagination. "Don't be like Apollo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will frowns deeper, confused between why can’t Nico just stay, why Will is being so insistent that Nico stays, and why Nico had compared him to Apollo. Will won't be like Apollo. He won't drop his entire education, his whole future, just to start a business in the middle of nowhere because of grief? He wouldn't, would he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, Nico did make a good point, though. Will barely </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Why would Will spend so much money just so someone he barely knows can </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay </span>
  </em>
  <span>? His parents wouldn't let him do that either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky is getting much lighter, and there are more and more things happening on the port now. More people wearing blue vests are running around; giant carts filled with envelopes, packages, and boxes being rolled around the area; workers loading the packages into the boats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” Nico starts, glancing back towards him, “I probably have to go soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a hint of a smile on Nico’s lips as he stands up from the tire he’s sitting on and jumps off the back of the truck. Will twists his body to watch Nico run to the front of the truck and climb in for a second before jumping back out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico motions for Will to get off the truck and so, Will does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, catch.” A car key is tossed at him, and Will promptly drops it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear Nico laugh from behind him as he turns around and crouches down to pick up the key, and Will thinks his heart just skipped a beat. Nico’s laugh is </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turns back to Nico, “Why are you giving me this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, aren’t you going to go home? I can’t take the damned truck onto a boat now, can I? That would give me away immediately.” Nico tilts his head. “Besides, you’re seventeen. You can drive yourself back to the city.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know where we </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Will frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” Nico waves his hand towards the port, “Go down there, ask for some directions, I don’t know. You can take care of yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s eyes are twinkling underneath the sunlight. The sun is fully up now, and Will can only guess it’s nearing seven in the morning. Nico must have realized it, as well, because he looks over towards the port.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go?” Nico jerks his head over in the direction of the port, suddenly looking uncertain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will swallows down a lump that had been growing in his throat all of a sudden. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk towards the port itself should have only taken twenty seconds more or less, but they’re both walking so slowly while randomly stopping and sighing at the sun as if it’s their death sentence, that it takes them a few minutes. Especially Nico. Nico is walking painfully slow even if he's the one who's walking ahead. He almost trips over a pebble on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico’s eyes are so unfocused as he looks down at the row of cargo ships that are being loaded with packages from where they’re standing beside the port center, that Will is the first one to notice a boat at the far right end where workers seem to be finishing up with the last few packages. Will taps Nico, who again flinches once Will touches his arm, and points towards that boat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! You kids aren’t supposed to be here!” A passing worker pushing a cart yells at them. Will jumps in surprise, and Nico glances at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They have no choice but to go back to the street. At least for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reach the street, Will tilts his head at the shorter boy, “How will you sneak yourself through that many people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico shrugs, “I’m small. I can do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fall silent. Will stares out at the boats, and at the wide sea behind them, thinking about how in a few minutes, Nico will be out </span>
  <em>
    <span>there </span>
  </em>
  <span>, at sea with no goal of a location in mind except for anywhere but there. It makes Will a little sad, and he swallows down another growing lump in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turns to Nico, who looks just as in a daze while he stares down at the port as Will feels. Will clears his throat, “You better go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nico nods in agreement, still staring at a point away from them. “I should.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t make a move to actually go. Will can see the boat at the far end that he had pointed out to Nico starting to look like it’s going to leave soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nico-” Will starts, and Nico suddenly makes a move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It happens so fast that Will’s mind barely manages to register it as it happens - when Nico takes a giant step forward towards Will until there are only a few inches of space in between them, when Nico stands up on the tops of his toes, grabbing onto Will’s arm to keep himself steady, when Nico reaches up and closes the distance between their mouths. Nico pulls away after what feels like the speed of light, and Will’s heart feels like it’s about to break through his rib cage from how hard it beats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will Solace stands frozen, his head turning to watch as Nico runs straight down to the boat on the far right of the port, ducking between workers and carts like a whirlwind. When Nico disappears into the crowd of people and carts so soon, Will almost thinks the kiss didn’t happen. That it was actually just a part of his subconscious imagination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words Will was going to say remain unspoken on the edge of his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please stay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Will finds himself back home at around three o’clock in the afternoon, still wondering if the last 12 hours had actually happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Nico disappeared, he had gone down to the port center just like Nico had recommended and asked for directions on how to go back to the city. They had given him relatively okay instructions, but he made a few wrong turns and had to guess his way back to the freeway. Eventually, some nice family returning to the city from a holiday that Will had met while passing by a gas station had offered to hook him up to the back of their car until they reach the exit back into the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank god for nice people. You don’t encounter such nice people a lot anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he drives the old pick up truck onto their estate, their family housekeepers spot him first and immediately call out for his mom. His mom hugs him and practically cries into his shoulder about how much they all worried for him because he didn’t appear for lunch, then proceeds to scold him and tell him how she’ll be having bodyguards tail him around everywhere when she notices the rips and scratches on his clothes and body. Just like he expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They make him go into his room to wash up and change his clothes, and he does so in a daze. He ignores the phone on his bedside table that is still blowing up with messages and calls and lies back on his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time he closes his eyes, the image of Nico’s face and smile pops into his head. He can almost hear Nico’s laugh and feel the touch of his lips on Will’s. He knows Nico wouldn’t have stayed even if Will offered him the whole universe, but he still can’t help but wonder </span>
  <em>
    <span>what if </span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, he opens his eyes and pushes himself to sit up again, heaving another sigh as he stands up and walks over to his dresser to pull out the first set of clothes he sees. Another sigh as he pads over to the bathroom connected to his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fourth sigh as he pulls off his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strangled stream once he peels his pajama shirt off of himself, staring in shock at the new black mark on his skin that looks so unfamiliar but familiar at the same time.</span>
</p><p><span>A sob when he finally realizes what the mark newly etched on the skin over his right collarbone reads, mind spinning with all the possibilities, all the </span><em><span>what</span></em> <em><span>if</span></em><span>s.</span></p><p>
  <span>He finally knows Nico's last name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Written in a messy, cursive scrawl is the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nico di Angelo </span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
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